The irresistible forces of failure and the fear of bad luck are turned into paintings that are dumb at first glance but brilliant the more we keep looking. For instance, an anime-style painting of a male head with a huge erection for a hand, superimposed with varied patches of color suggesting a variety of vaginas, may demonstrate the difference between figuration (the phallus) and abstraction (the pussies).

Figuration gives us recognizable elements and signs that we can decode, while abstraction turns its back on us and blocks our view to prevent interpretation and resist narrative. Paradoxically, abstraction annihilates illusions and obliterates distractions, while figuration can mystify and delude. We can observe the hostility and intercourse between figuration and abstraction in the painting of a skunk giving a pink flower to a crocodile wearing a red painter’s hat and snacking on a fishbone. The crocodile rolls its eyes and looks jaded and world-weary, while the skunk seems hopeful and giddy, naive and oblivious of the crocodile’s disdain. A yellow butterfly flutters behind the crocodile. Below, a rat in blue shorts and leather shoes, hands in pockets looking bored and burned-out, is turned towards a little chick looking away in dismay, wearing similar leather shoes but is otherwise naked. An awkward tension seems to exist between the two but exactly what is happening cannot be determined since the image is upside down and painted over with various shapes of different colors, almost completely obstructing our view of the scene. What is clear is the text that reads, “Since I gave up hope I feel much better.”

The shallow and the deep are both apparent on the surface of the paintings. The picture of a monkey with hair shaved on parts of its body and pubic area, holding up an impossible triangle constructed out of poo, is evocative of Homo erectus’ discovery of fire – a turning point in human evolution. But the triangular turd is a discovery that we don’t know what to make of, whether it is useless or valuable. Though the act is a great leap in thought and imagination, it leaves us and the monkey none the wiser.

In another, cartoon-like picture, a naked woman holding a giant pair of scissors waiting for the peeper to poke his pecker through the peephole on a fence may be seen as a comment on the act of looking at art, and brings to mind Marcel Duchamp’s final opus, Étant donnés (roughly translated as Given). In this case, the naked female body is on the same side as the onlooker and instead of a gas lamp in her hand illuminating the way, she holds a pair of scissors that threaten to put the light out of the candle shining and towering on the other side, which she does not see.

As we can see, these paintings are devoted to the traditions of modern art and make use of familiar avant-garde elements such as the grid, the maze, and the brick wall. The grid is found in several of the paintings such as one that plays with surrealism where a hand crushes a beer can as if in triumph, muscles flexing and biceps bulging. Pine trees grow on the biceps, which could also be seen as a hill. Hovering above is an eyeball that could also be a full moon. In the center is an owl made of shells and below is a hospital urinal for patients who find it impossible to get out of bed. The images get out of the grid and do not stay behind the lines.

While multiple layers are commonly piled on the surface, the pictures go against complexity. One painting is initially of a classic motivational poster of a small kitten hanging on to a tree branch coupled with the catchphrase, “Hang in there baby.” This popular relic of the 1970s is used as the underpainting, layered over and almost completely obscured by an image of two prisoners hanging in chains wearing only tattered shorts. The prisoner on the right of the kitten seems horny and amused as he inserts his free foot down the pants of his companion, while the other guy is stunned and looks away, yet also somehow pleased to be preoccupied. His legs are splayed and he feels the pleasure yet feels embarrassed that he is pleasured. The naughty one doing the footsie is clean-looking and looks like a newbie prisoner, while the helpless guy being stimulated has overgrown facial hair and a bloated belly, and appears to have been hanging there for a while. This image is further painted over with an enlarged version of a shrunken head, a novelty item inspired by the headhunting Jivaro tribe of South America, famous for their practice of shrinking and preserving human heads taken in battle as a trophy. The hunted heads are shrunk to the size of a large orange and sewn along the lips. The souvenir version is attached to a string to be hung in the home or car. Beneath the shrunken head is a singing fish, a popular kitschy object that turns its head towards the spectator and sings kitschy cover songs when turned on. It is mounted on a plaque and typically hung on the wall like a taxidermy trophy. These layered images, evidently, have something to do with “hanging” and may refer to the hanging of paintings or pictures.

Paintings defy analysis and change meaning or evolve in idiocy at different times and different states. The more we look the more we know, and the more we know the more we don’t know. We know the look of losers and the picture of success. These pictures are successful in displeasing our sense of beauty, and raise philosophical questions that kill the buzz of glamour and glory. How do we solve the circular maze of art making and go beyond the dead ends of imagination? In Jayson Oliveria’s exhibition, After this, everything you do is wrong, the answers are given.

The irresistible forces of failure and the fear of bad luck are turned into paintings that are dumb at first glance but brilliant the more we keep looking. For instance, an anime-style painting of a male head with a huge erection for a hand, superimposed with varied patches of color suggesting a variety of vaginas, may demonstrate the difference between figuration (the phallus) and abstraction (the pussies).

Figuration gives us recognizable elements and signs that we can decode, while abstraction turns its back on us and blocks our view to prevent interpretation and resist narrative. Paradoxically, abstraction annihilates illusions and obliterates distractions, while figuration can mystify and delude. We can observe the hostility and intercourse between figuration and abstraction in the painting of a skunk giving a pink flower to a crocodile wearing a red painter’s hat and snacking on a fishbone. The crocodile rolls its eyes and looks jaded and world-weary, while the skunk seems hopeful and giddy, naive and oblivious of the crocodile’s disdain. A yellow butterfly flutters behind the crocodile. Below, a rat in blue shorts and leather shoes, hands in pockets looking bored and burned-out, is turned towards a little chick looking away in dismay, wearing similar leather shoes but is otherwise naked. An awkward tension seems to exist between the two but exactly what is happening cannot be determined since the image is upside down and painted over with various shapes of different colors, almost completely obstructing our view of the scene. What is clear is the text that reads, “Since I gave up hope I feel much better.”

The shallow and the deep are both apparent on the surface of the paintings. The picture of a monkey with hair shaved on parts of its body and pubic area, holding up an impossible triangle constructed out of poo, is evocative of Homo erectus’ discovery of fire – a turning point in human evolution. But the triangular turd is a discovery that we don’t know what to make of, whether it is useless or valuable. Though the act is a great leap in thought and imagination, it leaves us and the monkey none the wiser.

In another, cartoon-like picture, a naked woman holding a giant pair of scissors waiting for the peeper to poke his pecker through the peephole on a fence may be seen as a comment on the act of looking at art, and brings to mind Marcel Duchamp’s final opus, Étant donnés (roughly translated as Given). In this case, the naked female body is on the same side as the onlooker and instead of a gas lamp in her hand illuminating the way, she holds a pair of scissors that threaten to put the light out of the candle shining and towering on the other side, which she does not see.

As we can see, these paintings are devoted to the traditions of modern art and make use of familiar avant-garde elements such as the grid, the maze, and the brick wall. The grid is found in several of the paintings such as one that plays with surrealism where a hand crushes a beer can as if in triumph, muscles flexing and biceps bulging. Pine trees grow on the biceps, which could also be seen as a hill. Hovering above is an eyeball that could also be a full moon. In the center is an owl made of shells and below is a hospital urinal for patients who find it impossible to get out of bed. The images get out of the grid and do not stay behind the lines.

While multiple layers are commonly piled on the surface, the pictures go against complexity. One painting is initially of a classic motivational poster of a small kitten hanging on to a tree branch coupled with the catchphrase, “Hang in there baby.” This popular relic of the 1970s is used as the underpainting, layered over and almost completely obscured by an image of two prisoners hanging in chains wearing only tattered shorts. The prisoner on the right of the kitten seems horny and amused as he inserts his free foot down the pants of his companion, while the other guy is stunned and looks away, yet also somehow pleased to be preoccupied. His legs are splayed and he feels the pleasure yet feels embarrassed that he is pleasured. The naughty one doing the footsie is clean-looking and looks like a newbie prisoner, while the helpless guy being stimulated has overgrown facial hair and a bloated belly, and appears to have been hanging there for a while. This image is further painted over with an enlarged version of a shrunken head, a novelty item inspired by the headhunting Jivaro tribe of South America, famous for their practice of shrinking and preserving human heads taken in battle as a trophy. The hunted heads are shrunk to the size of a large orange and sewn along the lips. The souvenir version is attached to a string to be hung in the home or car. Beneath the shrunken head is a singing fish, a popular kitschy object that turns its head towards the spectator and sings kitschy cover songs when turned on. It is mounted on a plaque and typically hung on the wall like a taxidermy trophy. These layered images, evidently, have something to do with “hanging” and may refer to the hanging of paintings or pictures.

Paintings defy analysis and change meaning or evolve in idiocy at different times and different states. The more we look the more we know, and the more we know the more we don’t know. We know the look of losers and the picture of success. These pictures are successful in displeasing our sense of beauty, and raise philosophical questions that kill the buzz of glamour and glory. How do we solve the circular maze of art making and go beyond the dead ends of imagination? In Jayson Oliveria’s exhibition, After this, everything you do is wrong, the answers are given.

The 2nd leg in the series of Pablo Galleries’ 10th Anniversary show will showcase video works by Poklong Anading, Martha Atienza, Lena Cobangbang, Ivan & Pauline Despi, Kaloy Olavides, Tad Ermitanio with Mannet Villariba. Curated by Shireen Seno and Merv Espina, the exhibit, entitled Instructions, retakes the 2-part process of video work : the production and conceptualization of the work, and the installation of the work in a given space,” inviting artists to revisit their past video or time-based media works and break them down to a score or set of instructions—distilling old work into a set of instructions from which to generate something new. ”

Quoting further from their curatorial statement :

“In the context of PABLO’s video exhibition on the occasion of their 10th anniversary, the artists can choose to present their actual processes and investigations, or work them in as they then re-install, re-imagine or re-work their pieces into a given space—this time with a heightened awareness of the limitations of space, time, technology, finances and other logistical constraints—based on the original incarnation or idea of their works and the act of breaking them down.

We liken this process to a performance. Such as in music or dance, an element of indeterminacy is central to the idea of a work being performed. But indeterminacy is not present in the playback of media. It’s present in the act of installing an installation.

In the process of participating in this exhibition, the artists assess their ideas and intentions of creation, and explore alternative ways of understanding authenticity, change and loss in ways that might help guide the conservation of their works of art. ”

“Many of the works in question only exist as memories, rumors, and text on forgotten catalogs and manuscripts, even those as recent as 5 years ago. Perhaps the moving image can in fact bear witness to the instability/precarity of our times, challenging the very structures and dynamics that constitute these works with its audience, whose various acts of witnessing, participation and remembrance is key—and for some works, could now only be its only form of existence.”

Shireen Seno and Merv Espina continue to work on the Kalampag Tracking Agency, an ongoing initiative and screening program exploring alternative notions/visions in moving image practice from the Philippines.

This will open on August 15 and will run until August 22, 2015. The opening night will be highlighted by a special Selecter FM Session, curated by Caliph8 with performances by Pow Martinez & Kaloy Olavides (with Pastilan Dong), Malek Lopez & Moon Fear Moon, Roger Lopez & Richard Tuason.

10 Years is 10 years of seeing neighboring shops come and go here at Cubao X, surrounding structures being demolished and replaced with new ones, a procession of fashion and music trends in constant retro procession, and the denizens and hangers-on of this quaint cul-de-sac at the heart of Cubao shopping center getting older and younger, and former party-addicts becoming doting parents to pets and babies. But as art is forever, those 10 years for Pablo will just be a marker for another chapter, another decade of more challenging and more lustrous art years ahead. So cheers to this night, and to the coming exhibits. There’s still three more to go until September.

This first leg, titled Into One Category or The Other is curated by the collaborative duo of Dina Gadia and Allan Balisi as Saturnino Basilia. Read more about the show here.

A zine catalog for the show was also released and it sells for just 100 bux. Make sure to get your copy now!

Setting up the show with a mural by Epjey Pacheco and Eva Yu.

While outside, the graffiti crew of Drone, Ekis and Exld tagged the 2nd floor facade.

“Nikes are first and foremost Nikes and only later a shoe, with the symbol on the shoe becoming the material substance from which it is actually made”
–Joshua Simon, Neomaterialism

Ten minutes into Jamie Uys’s 1980 cult classic The Gods Must Be Crazy, we witness the careless pilot consuming and discreetly disposing a bottle of Coca-Cola out of his window while flying over the Kalahari Desert. While ambling the blonde safari, Xi, the protagonist bushman, encounters the bottle on the ground. Baffled and curious with its alien-like qualities, Xi immediately brings it back to his village thinking that it was a present from the Gods. The simplistic Kalahari Bushmen, who are only familiar with wood and bone, slowly find countless ways to incorporate the foreign glass material into their everyday rituals – from curing snake skins to playing music, mark making, and pounding root vegetables and grains.

Fueled by enchantment, the tribe develops a symbiotic relationship with the bottle, as if magically shifting its intrinsic ontological and practical properties. Uys’s narrative seems to happily undo the curse of capitalist refuse, reinvisioning and decolonizing the so-called gift from the Gods. However, the use value of the bottle gradually increases within the tribe and, since there is only one bottle in existence for them, tribal members start to claim ownership over it. The once harmonious Kalahari Bushmen break into chaos, creating envy and start to violently fight over its possession. The pandemonium results in a gathering of the tribal elders, which leads to an agreement to send Xi on a pilgrimage to bring the cursed gift back to the absent-minded Gods in order to restore peace in their community.

Patrick Cruz (b.1987) is a Filipino-Canadian artist primarily working in painting, installation, assemblage and performance. His profusive work oscillates between the personal and the political. Rooted in folk sensibilities, Cruz addresses the symptomatic effects and the paradoxical nature of modernity while attempting to find intersections between pre-historic desires and futuristic aspirations.

Cruz studied in the University of the Philippines and received his Bachelor of Fine Arts from Emily Carr University of Art + Design. He is currently an MFA candidate at the University of Guelph and a finalist of the 17th RBC Canadian Painting competition. His recent solo exhibitions and projects include Kitchen Codex: a Community Portrait (2015), Musagetes, People of Good Will & POSTCOMMODITY (ON, Canada); Brown Ninja: Ways of Moving (2015), Project 20 (QC, Philippines); Electronic Birthstone (2014), Dynamo Arts Association (BC, Canada). Upcoming projects include group exhibition Auto Feeling at Katzman Contemporary (TO, Canada) and the organization of the 2nd Kamias Triennale (QC, Philippines) in 2017.

The opening will be supplemented with an artist talk which will start at 5PM.

Caliph8 & Merv Espina preparing the tech deck, also the recording device by which we’ll be uploading the audio session on line sometime soon. So watch out for SelecterFM radio

Back from a series of gigs in Japan and Shanghai, Caliph8 has warmly accommodated our invitation to spin for last Saturday’s Selecter FM Session, live mixing from his collection of rare vinyls of Turkiish Psych, Swamp Blues, Pinoy Garage Rock,Polish Free Jazz, Kosmische to Folk and Country. For that night, he was also selling his exclusively Japan released record Realized Patterns & Sequences.

This night is not a homage to Curtis Armstrong. But who still remembers him? HOHOL File sharing AV club sessions (coming soon) would make for a great refresher for him though. But this night is for Booger Nights and for staid reflection on the vicissitudes of nostril hygiene, after all isn’t that sticky slimy thing the closest physical thing to the brain? Stimulants for brain picking as served by Albert Sy for tonight.